



Book 



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Go[!yriglit]>l°_. 



/9/^ 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSre 






BY 

JESSAMINE KIMBALL DRAPER 




BOSTON 

SHERMAN, FRENCH ^ COMPANY 

1914 






^ 



Copyright, 1914 
Sherman, French &' Company 

AUG -/' 1914 

©CI.A379053 



TO 

MY MOTHER 

WHO HAS BELIEVED IN ME 



Thanks are due to the " Book News 
Monthly " for permission to reprint " Shadow 
Babe " and " The Christmas Lullaby," and to 
Mr. J. C. Bartlett for permission to reprint 
" Ma Pale-brown Lady Sue." 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

The Shadow Babe 1 

Ode for Washington's Birthday ... 2 

Morning 5 

Secrets 6 

Two Sonnets on Old Age 7 

I Rebellion 7 

II Resignation ....... 7 

The Demon and the Man 9 

A Christmas Lullaby 10 

Life's Philosophy 11 

The Unafraid 12 

Alone 13 

Snow in April 14 

The Nasturtium 15 

Sunday at Lake George 16 

Song of the Nation 17 

The Optimist 19 

For a Birthday 21 

Hindu Warrior Song 22 

My Queen 23 

My Valentine 24 

The Sublime 25 

The Spirit of Christmas 26 

Lullabye 27 

Ballade of the Silent City 28 

Prayer 30 

A Day on the Bay 31 

In Vain 32 

Loving Thee 33 

The Christmas of the Poor 34 

Ivy Hymn 36 

Love's Lent 37 

Cupid's Vengeance 38 

Just a Little 39 



PAGE 

Spring 40 

Separation 41 

The Price 42 

Our Lady of the Moon 43 

The Unremembered 44 

Ma Pale-brown Lady Sue 45 

Song for Chi Psi 47 

God's Vesper Hour 49 

Farmer Appleton's Decision .... 50 

The Close of Day 52 

CHILD VERSES 

Getting Up 55 

Going to Bed 56 

A Shower 57 

A Rainy Day 58 

A Thunder Storm 59 

Little Folks' Reason 60 

The Daily Bath 61 



THE SHADOW BABE 
AND OTHERS 



THE SHADOW BABE 

Somewhere, far off, in shadow-land, 
Where uncalled children play, 

A tiny one with eyes still closed 
Has missed its earthly way. 

An unborn babe; sweet might-have-been; 

A wished-for child, a wraith; 
A spirit soul that could have lived. 

Were children born of faith. 

Ask Mary Mother for the way, 

O babe in shadow-land; 
Her understanding heart will know 

The way it has been planned. 

For Mary's eyes have looked in hers 

And left the love of Heaven ; 
And all the while you wait uncalled, 

To others it is given. 

Some day, perhaps, — oh, let it be — 
The mother-call may reach you; 

And then, dear Shadow Child, you'll learn 
What only she could teach you. 



[1] 



ODE FOR WASHINGTON'S BIRTHDAY 

Creator of our earthly might, 
With Heaven's aid, 
Full three half-centuries of light 
Were not enough to fade 
The lustre of thy deeds and name. 
A nation's guide, thy firm strong hand. 
Oft shielding, urged us on the weary way. 
Thy mind, fore-casting, knew a future day 
Would rise resplendent on a prosp'rous land, 
The home of those thou ledst through strenu- 
ous paths to fame. 
And now thou sleepest, Washington: 
Still, though thou sleep. 
Lead on, lead on ! 

Through our noise and fret he dreameth. 
And liis soul's voice pleads with God: 
" So deep their blindness seemeth. 
Yet spare thy chast'ning rod; 
Show mercy to my people; 
Forget them not as on their way they plod." 
Thus still thou leadest, Washington, 
Lead on, lead on! 

Struggle rose, fierce conflict raged 
Throughout the country's peopled length; 
Children of one house engaged 
In strife of strength with strength; 

[2] 



Thou heardst the cry, thou sleeper, of nation 
rent in twain. 

From sea to sea, divided powers 

Relentless met with challenge hoarse, 

Nor yielded both till one had spent its force. 

In the slave's stern cry for liberty, had we for- 
gotten ours? 

God heard the sleeper's plea, and we are one 
again. 

Yea, still thou leadest, Washington ; 
Lead on, lead on! 

A helpless cry; 

For Freedom's sake, the appeal spread through 

the earth. 
In our reply 
Throbbed mem'ries of our nation's struggling 

birth ; 
While thy spirit went before us, holding forth 

the crown of state. 
Where shed the sister stars their pure, white 

light, 
Like Israel's cloud, a guide for day and night 
To the marching throng that followed where 

they shone. 
Nor needed yet to falter in the gray light of 

day's dawn. 
Yet rose some lesser stars o'er distant seas. 
Whose light, blood red, shines not as pure as 

these. 

[3] 



God grant before they dim our glory's crown, 
We see them, quiv'ring, go forever down, 
Swung by His Hand of Fate. 

— • Through our tumult still he dreameth, 
And his soul's voice pleads with God: 
" So deep their blindness seemeth. 
Yet spare thy chast'ning rod; 
Show mercy to my people. 
Forget them not as on their way they plod." 
Still mayst thou lead us, Washington; 
Lead on, lead on ! 



[4] 



MORNING 

The morning came over the hills 

Aglow ; 

While the blow 

Of his breath stirred the little brown bird. 

Wafted the poet a new-born word, 

Softly sang what the mother heard 

As over the cradle she bended low. 



[5] 



SECRETS 

WHISPERING winds 

In the murmuring pines, 

What bring ye from afar? 
Ye come from sleep, 
From the mists of the deep. 

From the home of the Morning Star. 

Ye have swept the sands 

Of eastern lands. 
And breathed o'er the sea, I trow; 

Ye have kissed the flowers 

Of western bowers ; 
The haunts of the birds ye know. 

The happiest thought 
That God e'er wrought 
Must lie in your wide embrace. 

1 would I knew 
But just a few 

Of the joys that kiss my face. 

But alas for the sorrows 

Of undawned tomorrows, 
And all of the pain unfurled. 

Some of these, too. 

Must murmur in you. 
As well as the joys of the world. 

[6] 



TWO SONNETS ON OLD AGE 



REBELLION 

With all the bitterness and strength of hate, 
She fought the finger of convincing time 
Which touched her kindly first in middle prime, 
Announcing gently, " 'tis the common fate, 
Of everlasting youth 'tis false to prate : " 
Now softening the hair with glist'ning rime, 
Now marking lines which might have been sub- 
lime 
If sullen instinct had not been innate. 
So when the hand fell heavier with years. 
There was no sweet content within the mind. 
Instead, the eyes grew hard with unshed tears. 
The features stiff and harsh as one made blind, 
And all the soul merged into subtle fears 
And longing for the life that lay behind. 



[7] 



II 



RESIGNATION 



Like some sweet glowing when the day is late, 
His face, illumined with advancing time, 
Reflects the glory of that farther clime 
Just glimpsed beyond the rosy sunset gate. 
And thus he is content to work and wait, 
His ear alert for call of distant chime. 
Like some sweet ending to unfinished rhyme. 
And wears the listening look of rapt estate. 
So here and there Time's finger left its kind 
Of mark, the line of character that sears 
The features to expression undesigned. 
But all the nobler picture it appears ; 
And the impress of his purpose undefined 
Becomes the benediction of his years. 



[8] 



THE DEMON AND THE MAN 

The shadows lengthened over the weary world 
And lost themselves in the abyss of night ; 
No moon or starlight pierced the blackness 

through, 
So the man of earth forgot there had been 

light. 

And there he wrestled with the demon of his 
soul 

Who said, " There is no light but from Eternal 
Fires ; 

I will that thou shalt come and take thy part 

In the throng, and join the praise of my Mas- 
ter's choirs." 

" I am tired," man cried ; " and was there ever 
any light .^^ 

Shall I not go with this servant of fate? 

O Power, if such there be to guide, show how 

To go aright before it is too late." 

For answer was the shining of a million stars. 
While the white clouds drifted across the light 

like angel wings, 
And over the body with its face turned upward 

to the sky, 
And its tortured soul released, the heavenly 

choir sings. 



[9] 



A CHRISTMAS LULLABY 

Across the fields of Bethlehem — 

Oh, hark, my little one — 
The angels sing a cradle song 

To Mary's little Son. 

" Oh, peace," they sing ; " good will," they 
sing. 

Ah, yes, my little one — 
The shepherds hear the lullaby 

To Mary's little Son. 

The wise men come from out the East — 

Just think, my little one — 
They saw the star which told the birth 

Of Mary's little Son. 

The Lord will bless to me my child — 

O sleep, my little one ■ — 
The Lord will keep thee through the night 

For the sake of Mary's Son. 



[10] 



LIFE'S PHILOSOPHY 

If we could span the rainbow across the 
darkening clouds, 

If we could fill the meadows with daisies brown 
and white, 

If we could set the stars a-swinging high in 
space, 

If ours the hands to regulate old SoPs and 
Luna's light. 

Would we be happier then than man is wont to 
be? 

If we with magic thought the world could re- 
arrange. 

Do you think we'd be contented? 

No, we'd wish it wouldn't change. 



[11] 



THE UNAFRAID 

The unafraid are those who see 

The wisdom of a policy, 

And then use strength to push it through, 

No matter what opposers do 

Or how they seem to disagree. 

They look clear-eyed and cautiously 
And take their stand inflexibly. 
And enemies reluctant view 
The unafraid. 

It is no martial fantasy 
Which holds these men in jeopardy. 
It is the plea of one lone Jew 
That stifl'ens them to service, too, 
And as He was, they wish to be. 
The unafraid. 



[12] 



ALONE 

To be alone — what is it, then, 

In this vast universe? 
Is't when we walk a lonely road. 

Or sit in solitude, 
Or find there's none to lift our load, 

Or give us, hungry, food. 
We suffer with this curse? 

It is the man with soul unstrung. 

Who needs the Master Hand 
To attune the harsh discordant note 

To harmonies of His 
Till by what quiv'ring force 'tis smote. 

It ever sweeter is. 
Yea, lonely he who finds no chords 

To which his life is sung, 
Who in his heart no room affords 

Where Nature's harp is hung. 



[13] 



SNOW IN APRIL 

Back from the north the flurrying snow, 

In whirKng, swirling flakes, 
Sparkled and shone in the first warm glow 
As it fell to the soft brown earth below, 
And gladly it seemed to return, but, lo, 

It chanced to be one of those spring mistakes. 

A wind from the south turned the vanishing 
trace 

Into quivering, shivering tears. 
And as they fell slowly and sadly to place, 
One splashed on the edge of a crocus face. 
And there it hung in unique disgrace, 

The last of its band of mutineers. 



[U] 



THE NASTURTIUM 

Thou orange tipped bit 
Of heart's blood ruddy hue, 
I see thee burst in flower, 
Wet with the morning dew. 

Thou wast but a bud at even. 
With scarce a petal turned, 
And now thou bearest the tints 
That the heart of the sunset burned. 

From the Lord of Light thou tookest 
The colors perfectly. 
Because of thy pure sweet fairness 
And the love He bore to thee. 

Would that I had a heart 

So pure in every thought. 

It could take from God the impress 

Of the Truth I long have sought. 

And this, the living emblem 
Of the dying of the day, 
Is the little sunset flower 
That blossoms by the way. 



[15] 



SUNDAY AT LAKE GEORGE 

The afterglow of day still lingers on the slopes, 
And soft the water flows in shadow gloom. 

Father, while a holy calm 

Rests upon thy hills, 

While moving shadows darkly creep 

In the vastness silence fills, 

Grant thy quiet peace 

To rest upon each heart ; 

Sweet trust abide with us. 

Who only see in part. — 

The afterglow of day is dying from the hills. 
And soft the water flows in shadow gloom. 



[16] 



SONG OF THE NATION 

As many sons and daughters, 

O land of Liberty, 
As many hearts for service 

To keep thy spirit free: 

Free from taint of meanness, 

Cowardice, or lust; 
Free from empty boasting ; 

Free from deeds unjust. 

Whatever creed or birthright, 

No less each citizen 
Will consecrate his service 

For God and the good of men. 

The fruited slopes of Westland, 
The cattle-bearing plain. 

The temples of New England, 
All make up the main. 

From land of burning noonday 
To land with glaciers iced. 

We stand before our Maker 
In brotherhood with Christ. 

From over seas we take them, — 
A neighbor, too, as when 

A knocking at the shore way 
Denotes the need of men. 
[17] 



And over all the banner 

For sons and daughters both; 

Its stripes for ancient glory, 
Its stars for present growth. 

With hearts and hands for service, 

O land of Liberty, 
Thy million sons and daughters 

Will keep thy spirit free. 



[18] 



THE OPTIMIST 

Looking backward through the years, 

I see a child at play 
Where some of sunlight, some of tears. 

Make up his little day. 

His tawny curls hold sunlight beams ; 

His little mouth, a-smile. 
But mocks the dark eyes' wistful gleams 

It could not all beguile. 



And now I see the form of youth, 
With the sunlight turned to brown. 

Where the strength and sweetness of life's 
truth 
Is more than fortune's frown. 

The mouth still smiles at life's array 

And wins its fill of sweetness, 
But shadows fall a longer way 

Than those of childhood's fleetness. 



Again I see a colder breath 

Has whited with its snows 
The brow of one whose eyes see death 

Through the shadows creeping close. 

[19] 



The mouth still smiles to me its gladness, 
And still shall smile unto the end, 

And death, so cheated of its sadness, 
Shall take to God one human friend. 



[20] 



FOR A BIRTHDAY 

" The days of our years are three score years and ten ; 
and if by reason of strength they be four score years, yet 
is their strength labor and sorrow, for it is soon cut off, 
and we fly away." 

The years ! What have they not unfolded ! 
God alone, and His eternity, 
And the destinies for which we're molded 
Are shrouded yet in mystery. 

But we are of a fuller growth than years ago. 
And are nearer by a span to nature's arms ; 
And but another span will take us ere we know, 
Or have a thought to hide these dim alarms. 

To share our common Mother's wide embrace 
With the myriads o'er whom the years have 

passed. 
And who have left nor sign nor trace 
To let us know there's peace at last. 

Another year? How short it seemed. 
Though crammed with love and j oy and pain ; 
With what blessings it has teemed; 
What choices once rejected have been offered us 
again. 

And shall we know another year if Nature folds 

her children all, 
And binds the silken thread of time 
That they may erstwhile burst their thrall 
And try their wings in a holier clime .f^ 
[31] 



HINDU WARRIOR SONG 

Fair wine of the dewy moon plant, 

Distilled by immortal gods, 

Eternal fires of power 

Burn in each drop of red. 

Course through the veins of my body. 

Blind me to aught but blood, 

Wash me of fear, thou Soma, 

Of fear of a warrior's death. 



[^2] 



MY QUEEN 

Ancestral sweetness sits enthroned 

Above her dainty brows, 

A gen'rous span of purest white 

That upward rises and is lost 

In dusky clouds that quiver at a breath. 

Her eyes? A pair of mystery worlds, 

So blue to shame a summer sky, 

That hold sweet depths as yet unstirred. 

That faintly smile in frankness pure 

To guard them when the fringed veil is raised. 

Her nose at fault ? Ah, say not so ; 

Though not of Grecian art 'tis faintly tipped — 

That fair disdain my little love may claim as 

sceptre royal. 
A mouth, though full, is saved by perfect 

curves. 
And adds its tribute to the worth 
That is my dear one's right. 
Now can you see the impress of the face 
That hovers in my dreams at night. 
That lingers in my thoughts by day? 
Then can you best discern the sweetness of the 

soul 
That rest in such a temple fair. 
For wider than the thrall her face conjures 
Is the worship that her virtue takes: 
And this my little love, my Queen. 

[23] 



MY VALENTINE 

A DAINTY child thou art, my love; 

So full of charms and graces, 
I vow a glimpse of thee doth bring 

The smiles to angel faces. 
The faint sweet scent of violets 

Becomes thy silks and laces. 
And in thine eyes a sweetness beams 

Which lights my heart's deep mazes. 
Sad it is to be in doubt. 

But that is what the case is. 
For a different love I have each time 

For all thy winsome phases. 



[24] 



THE SUBLIME 

In one frail bark, 

Tossed on a raging sea, 
There crouched a soul in its human frame. 
It marked on the face its agony of fear, — 
The awfulness of sound with none to hear, — 
Till something which shall be without a name 

Did come from out Eternity. 

With its guise 
Of tranquilness thrown off, the sea 
Plunged vainly to escape low-bending clouds 
Which drove the waves with lightning reins 
That glistened, changeful, on the foaming 

manes. 
And now the human eyes did watch the shrouds 
Of blackness rise eternally. 

With calmness born 
Of strength; for now the sea 
Appeared but as the molded nature of His 

hands, 
The Absolute, who rules expression of His 

power. 
Though floods o'ei-w^helmed the bark, the soul 

refused to cower. 
But left its body washed upon the paling sands, 
And entered on Eternit3^ 

[25] 



THE SPIRIT OF CHRISTMAS 

It comes with the crisp December air; 

It's everything exciting; 
It's mystery, and mistletoe, 

And confidence inviting; 
It's knowing looks ; it's whispering ; 

It loves a sprig of holly ; 
It's in each gift, from costly furs 

Down to baby's dolly. 
There's nothing like it all the year 

For love and merry-making, 
And it's just as blessed whether 'tis 

In giving or in taking. 



[26] 



LULLABYE 

The breezes come over the river to rest, — 

Sing lullaby e, lullabye, dear; 
They're rocking the little ones safe in their 
nest, 

While mother bird's hovering near. 

The elfins have crept in the tiny moss rose, — ' 

Sing lullabye, dear little one; 
The Father has brought His day to its close, 

And little boy's play is done. 

The little tired feet have run all the day. 
The little breast heaves such a sigh. 

Nothing's such work as little boy's play, — 
Sing lullabye, lullabye, bye. 

The sandman shall carry you off to the lands 
Where spices and sugarplums grow, 

So over the breast fold the little brown hands, — 
Sing lullabye, lullabye, O. 



[37] 



BALLADE OF THE SILENT CITY 

Behind whose mount the dawning day 
Comes soberly in dull gray dressed, 
This breastwork of the valley way, 
With mausoleum on its crest. 
Bears chart of homes by plan compressed 
To hold one room for each to fill, 
For citizens all lie at rest 
In the silent city on the hill. 

The city hall of weathered gray 

Stands sharp against the hill's brown breast, 

And from its tower a deep dismay 

Remarks the coming of each guest. 

O valley worker, hark the test 

That numbs the heart with sudden chill ! 

For from the East is toward the West, 

And the silent city on the hill. 

How few the living feet that stray 
Upon these walks in cheerful quest. 
Yet shrub and tree and blossom gay 
Attract the bluebird for his nest. 
Perhaps the heart is happiest 
That holds no thought for coming ill, 
But what of him who goes unblest 
To the silent city on the hill.? 



[£8] 



So take some earnest with the jest, 
And plan the play with careful drill; 
All paths unite, howso digressed. 
Toward the silent city on the hill. 



[29] 



PRAYER 

Bless to me those weary lengthened hours 
When the soul, repentant and self-scourging, 

Keepeth me from rest; 
When the burden of my sinning weigheth heavy 
And my spirit calleth to Thee, urging: 
"Father, do thou bless." 



£30] 



A DAY ON THE BAY 

AT HAVERSHAM 

Gray clouds scudding, 
Milk cows cudding, 
Wee lambs bleating dawn of day. 

Sun's rays flashing, 
Surf high splashing. 
Morning greeting ocean spray. 

White sails drifting. 
Shadows shifting. 
Drowsy noon is on the bay. 

Shadows longer. 
Light winds stronger. 
Twilight soon is after play. 

Sailboats rocking. 

Pier rocks knocking. 
Lamps are lighting on the bay ; 

Moonbeams shedding, 

Children bedding. 
Sweet good-nighting ends the day. 



[31] 



IN VAIN 

I've bought a desk, 
And a brand new pen ; 
I'm using both 
In an author's den. 

My shopping list 
Of " writers' tools," 
Long itemized 
For the use of fools. 

Contains a lot 
Of things to use 
Which will, they say, 
Entice the Muse. 

Yet though I look 
With frenzied pains, 
— Not on the list — 
" Some author's brains." 



[32] 



LOVING THEE 

A SONG 

If all the light were taken 

From the eyes of me, — 
Though I couldn't see thee, dear, 

I'd still be loving thee. 

If all the sounds were silent 

In the ears of me, — 
Though I couldn't hear thy voice, 

I'd still be loving thee. 

And if my life were taken, 
Somewhere the heart of me 

Would somehow still be beating, dear,- 
I'd still be loving thee. 



[33] 



THE CHRISTMAS OF THE POOR 

The merry chime, 

The Christmas time, 
What joy to the home of the poor? 
Huddled in foul breathed space, 

Working till light 

Goes into the night, 
There's a part of the human race. 

What heed do we give 

To those that live 
Where the light is always gray? 
Weighted with ceaseless cares. 

Brought to it, yes. 

By the hands that should bless, — 
What is this prayer of theirs : 

" With heart so dreary. 

Body weary. 
We ask Thee but for this: 
For death that is sure and swift. 

For a sleep to make 

Us never wake, — 
Oh, grant us, God, this gift." 

Fitfully sleeps, 

While the day dawn creeps, 
The child of prosperity. 
Under our free star flags, 

[34] 



His are the toys 
And the Christ day's joys, 
But what of the children of rags 

" With heart so dreary, 

Body weary, 
We ask Thee but for this: 
For death that is sure and swift, 

For a sleep to make 

Us never wake, — ■ 
Oh, grant us, God, this gift." 



[35] 



IVY HYMN 

Unmindful, we have come along the way 
With hearts that recked not of a future cloud, 
Along the path of youth and spring 
To this full summer's blossoming. 
But now a serious thought arrests 
Our heedless, gay lightheartedness. 
For, lo, the face of mem'ry, ivy-browed, 
ForeshadoAvs here a grief we could not stay. 

A tiny shoot of living green we give 

To silent growth while other days shall dawn, 
That we may leave a common thing 
For each to share, remembering, 
In those fond hours of future days 
When hearts look back along their ways ; 

For in its growing strength when years have 
gone, 

A youth, new-spirited, for us shall live. 

With the wide world's work we stand now face 

to face; 
How great or small our part is yet unseen; 
But in other days, when sunlight falls 
On other towers and ivied walls. 
When twilight gathers to the night 
The last few shadows left of light. 
We shall remember that our ivy yet grows 

green ; 
For each heart's homing still it weaves a place. 
[36] 



LOVE'S LENT 

Teach me Love's denial, Lord, 

Or I may not be 
Strong to meet the trial. Lord, 

In Love's Gethsemane. 

Teach me in Thy fashion. Lord; 

Give the Cup to me; 
So wast spent Thy passion, Lord,- 

Not on Calvary. 



[37] 



CUPID'S VENGEANCE 

Cupid came a-knocking, 
But I wouldn't let him in; 
He broke his bow a-rapping 
And made a dreadful din; 
He clamored long and loudly, 
Stamped his little foot and said, 
" I'll make you wish you'd let me ; " 
Then he shook his curly head. 

Just as if he could outwit me, 
I thought in confidence; 
But before the year was over 
I was bowed in penitence. 
Some eyes of brown were tender, 
But they wouldn't look at me; 
And many lovers sought me, 
But, alas, 'twas never he. 

Yet once I saw him coming. 

And my heart stood still the while ; 

But, ah, he went right past me 

And I saw a little smile 

Peep 'round the open eyelid. 

Saw a little broken bow. 

And knew 'twas Cupid's vengeance. 

As he said, " I told you so." 



[38] 



JUST A LITTLE 

Just a little 
Task for Thee, 

But I do it 
Lovingly. 

Each a little — 
That's the way 

To do Thy work 
From day to day. 

And that little 
Sometimes grows 

To burdens large, 
Thy Wisdom knows. 

But then 'tis cut 
To little length. 

Just a measure 
For my strength. 

So, after all, 
I want to stay, 

To do my little 
Every day. 



[39] 



SPRING 

O MOTHER-HEART of all the jear. 
Thy travail is a gentle one, 
The alchemy of earth and sun 
While April drops a nursing tear. 



[40] 



SEPARATION 

Sweetheart, sweetheart, 

I have longed for thee; 
The birds are mated in their nest, 
The sun hath wooed the crimson west, 

But thou art not with me. 

Dear heart, dear heart. 

Whispering voices rise 
From out the depths of the pine wood grove. 
Where the love-kissed zephyrs all day rove. 

Where the peace of heaven lies. 

And yet, and yet. 

They ever sigh away. 
Till a far faint sob on the air is borne, 
As a grieving heart in a breast forlorn 

Breaks at the close of day. 

How long, how long, 

Beloved, shall it be? 
I to dream away from thee — 
Thou to dwell apart from me — 
And each to each cry yearningly. 



[41] 



THE PRICE 

For all the wrong I must have done, 
My punishment is made; 

Let angel scribe make record 
That I my debt have paid. 

A little life that came to me 
Was taken ere its breath 

Had time to make a moment's beat 
Between this life and death. 

For all the sin the world had done 
The cross was made for Christ, 

Who was with willing tenderness 
Divinely sacrificed. 

Heavy as the cross for Him, 
On me this weight is laid ; 

So for the wrong I must have done, 
O God, have I not paid.? 



[42] 



OUR LADY OF THE MOON 

O PALE medallion of the nightly skies, 
That hangs a pendant to their starry place, 
Thou holdest high above the world a face 
That watches with intent, averted eyes 
The scenes of distant spheres, and wears the 

guise 
Of gentle interest there, that we may trace 
The profile of a beauty veiled with space, 
The calm of far serenity, surmise 
Of peace. The silent dawn enfolds thy white 
And silver radiance, and fades too soon 
Thy likeness to a filmy disc of light 
Like shapen cloud. But hail again the noon 
Of night that swings thee out, fresh burnished, 

bright. 
To give once more our Lady of the Moon. 



[43] 



THE UNREMEMBERED 

WIFE TO DANTE 

Dear unbeloved, dear to me for sake 

Of woman's pity for a woman heart 

That brought her love to such a careless mart, 

There was no fair exchange of give and take. 

Instead thou gave the comfort, took the ache, 

And when lean Dante found himself and art 

Outside the gate to play the exile's part. 

His Beatrice lines our passions wake. 

Ah, mother of the seven images 

Which carried some impress of thee and him, 

So little honor Dante lavishes. 

The page is empty of thy name; and dim. 

Therefore, the lustre of his sentences. 

As his forgetting makes our worship slim. 



[44] 



MA PALE-BROWN LADY SUE 

SONG 

I 

De southern shore is full ob 
Little crinkles in de land, 
Dat ketch right hoP de ocean 
An' keep it in de sand. 
Bayou is what dey call it, — 
Dis handful ob ocean brew, — 
An' here's whar is de cabin 
Ob ma little lady Sue, 
Ma pale-brown lady Sue. 

CHORUS: 

O honey, won't yer come, while de silver is 
a-drippin' 
From de full moon up in de blue. 
Come befo' de moonman gets himself a dippin' 

In de waters ob de deep bayou. 
Come, ma little love-bird, yer wings I mus' be 
clippin'. 
For I'se waitin' yere dis night to woo 
Ma moon-babe, 
Ma coon-babe. 
Ma pale-brown lady Sue. 



[45] 



II 

She isn't dark to speak ob, 

An' white she couldn't be, 

For Sue's a prom'nent membah 

Ob de niggah " quality." 

But her eyes are like de 'sturtium flower, 

All yellah an' brown an' dew. 

While de heart ob a yellah daisy 

Is de color ob ma Sue, 

Ma pale-brown lady Sue. 

CHORUS: 

O honey, won't yer come, while de silver is 
a-drippin' 
From de full moon up in de blue. 
Come befo' de moonman gets himself a dippin' 

In de waters ob de deep bayou. 
Come, ma little love-bird, yer wings I mus' be 
clippin'. 
For I'se waitin' yere dis night to woo 
Ma moon-babe. 
Ma coon-babe, 
Ma pale-brown lady Sue. 



[46] 



SONG FOR CHI PSI 

(Air: The Stein Song) 
I 

Give a cheer, then, for the brothers, 
For beloved old Chi Psi ; 
Thank the luck that passed the others 
And took such as you and I. 

CHORUS: 

For we're Chi Psi forever, 
We're jolly Chi Psi together. 
With a hand for each brother 
And a heart for old Chi Psi. 
For we're Chi Psi forever. 
We're jolly Chi Psi together. 
With a hand for each brother 
And a heart for old Chi Psi. 

II 

O we're young and life is golden. 
But the years, pass swiftly by. 
And silver age will olden 
The brothers in young Chi Psi. 

CHORUS: 

But we're Chi Psi forever. 
We're jolly Chi Psi together. 
With a hand for each brother 
And a heart for voung Chi Psi. 
[47] 



But we're Chi Psi forever, 
We're jolly Chi Psi together, 
With a hand for each brother 
And a heart for young Clii Psi. 

Ill 

So our life is never saddened 
By the thought of " when we die," 
For our hearts are always gladdened 
We belong to dear Chi Psi. 

CHORUS: 

So we're Chi Psi forever. 
We're jolly Chi Psi together. 
With a hand for each brother 
And a heart for dear Chi Psi. 
So we're Chi Psi forever. 
We're jolly Chi Psi together, 
With a hand for each brother 
And a heart for dear Chi Psi. 



[48] 



GOD'S VESPER HOUR 

A PURPLE amethystine glow grew over the tops 
of the mountains, 
Bespeaking the ebb of the daylight's tide; 
Shadows from some lonely wandering clouds 
Cast their forms on the mountain side — 
God's vesper hour was come. 

Darker grew the purple then, until the twilight 
gray 
Held all the world against the sky in dim 
relief ; 
Tall oaks, like black-robed monks, stood silent 
on the mountain top, 
As if to pray a blessing on the quiet world 
beneath — 

God's vesper hour was done. 



[49] 



FARMER APPLETON'S DECISION 

(Written in connection with Governor Hughes' campaign 
against the racetrack gambling.) 

Daoun the roadway we was amblin', 
Me and Whitie, — that's my horse ; 
Her gait is growin' some'at shamblin', 
But she's still a drawirC force. 
And I says to her, " Now, Whitie, 
There's a question big and mighty 
'Bout the anti-race track gamblin' 
And the doin's of the course." 

And I says to Whitie pink-nose. 
Just by way of 'sinuation, 
" You're the very one, by Jingoes, 
To pervide the information. 
Confidential, now, my pony, 
Tell the truth to your old crony; 
Every one that thinks knows 
You could give the explanation." 

Whitie snorted once for answer. 

Which means, " Certainly I can, sir. 
Wasn't I the famous Rose o' Dawn.^ 

Why, I'm the fastest trotter 

Any money grubbing plotter 
Ever raced in former seasons past and gone." 



[50] 



Then I says to spring halt Whitie: 
" Claimin' looks with Aphrodite, 
There are some would hardly know you was go 
fast, 
What makes you take the breechin' 
With that fancy kind of hitchin'? 
Not really? Well, by gum, I am aghast! 

" To take a nice white speeder, 
Cut a ligament to bleed her, — 

Wall, thet's the durndest way to hev a sport! 
You say they was afraid you'd 
Win the race that they had paid you 

For to lose, — so that's the sort? " 

Wall, — wall ! Man ain't a cryin' critter. 

Nor yet he ain't a quitter; 
I stand to vote agin' them gamblin' tricks. 

Mister Hughes and me's agreed on 

All the issues mind can feed on. 
So I'll help him put the race course in a fix. 



[61] 



THE CLOSE OF DAY 

The sun's round ball has sunk behind 

The low-browed hills. The dusky mist 

Gathers over the pastures green; 

The katydids to the silence list 

And know 'tis time to trill their song. 

Every sound of homely toil 

Is softened with the fading light ; 

The weary worker of the soil 

Seeks the fireside and his pipe, 

And puffs, beside the smoky rings 

That curl and curl incessantly, 

A host of thoughts of greater things 

Which press around his simple mind 

In forms colossal yet remote. 

Then the eyelids close, and the pipe stem slips. 

While the falling ashes flake his coat. 

A simple folk, so happy, free; 
For them 'tis a weary day that's done; 
And we would give some years to feel 
Our burdens fall at the setting sun. 



[52] 



CHILD VERSES 



GETTING UP 

The merry sunshine laughs, " Ha, ha 1 " 

To see you still in bed; 
He's climbed 'way up the eastern sky 

To shine upon your head. 
O little boy and little girl. 

How do you sleep so long? 
Come out into the garden. 

And hear the robin's song. 



[55] 



GOING TO BED 

I KUN SO fast, I cannot think; 

So, God, will you forgive 
A little boy who just forgot 

The way that he should live? 

I play so hard, I, too, forget ; 

So, God, will you believe 
A little girl is sorry now 

She made her mother grieve? 

And bless us both, and give us sleep, 
And watch us till we wake; 

And do all this and more for us, 
Just for thine own Son's sake. 



[56] 



A SHOWER 

" Oh, dear me," said the little gray cloud, 

As it dropped the rain below. 
" Peep, peep, peep ! " said the little brown bird ; 

" Don't wet my feathers so." 

" Oh, dear me," said the little gray cloud ; 

" A cold wind blew on me." 
" There, there, there," said the dripping leaves ; 

" It's good for Mother Tree." 



[67] 



A RAINY DAY 

Fitter patter, gentle rain, 
Give the grass a drink ; 

Rainy days are very nice. 
Now and then, I think. 



[68] 



A THUNDER STORM 

" Boom ! " says the thunder ; 

" Boom ! boom ! boom I 
Boomerang, boomerang, boom ! " 
How I'd hate to ride out under 
The canopy of gloom. 

" Crack ! " says the hghtning ; 
" Crack ! crack ! crack ! 

Crackety, crackety, whiss ! " 

Wouldn't it be fright'ning 

To go outdoors in tliis? 

But crackety-crackety clears the air, 
And boom's the noise it makes ; 

So little boy and little girl. 
Be brave for all our sakes. 



[59] 



LITTLE FOLKS' REASON 

For my mother, 

Loving one, 
And no other, 

It was done. 

When she asks me 

If I would, 
When she tasks me 

To be good. 

Just for mother. 

Dearest one, 
And no other. 

It is done. 



[60] 



THE DAILY BATH 

It's oh, for a dip in the lily-white pond, 

And oh, for a nice warm rub; 
And it's fun, little boy, and fun, little girl, 

When you know the song of the tub: 

Splash to the right, and splash to the left. 

And splash from your head to your feet; 
No one to say " Be careful, my child, — 

Remember to keep yourself neat." 
Splash to the right, and splash to the left; 

Make waves for the Panama fleet. 
And when you have splashed to your heart's 
content. 

The song of the tub's complete. 



[61] 



